


Butt Parade

by Voido



Category: Persona 5
Genre: I Tried, M/M, Spoilers, akechi hates everyone, diner and chill, except I'm not, i'm truly sorry for the title, prompt, what is this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: Nothing fills Goro's mind like the wish to put an end to Akira Kurusu, the undeserved leader of a group of foolish children who constantly reach too far. That is, until he meets someone who shares his loneliness, and has him consider just a slightly different approach.





	Butt Parade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EndovaElixabete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndovaElixabete/gifts).



> I...did this because I was promised that it would stop a very certain (very weird) prompt from being thrown in my face any longer.  
> I suppose out of "happy AkeShima", I kinda failed the "happy" part a bit, but honestly, someone please tell me how it's canonically possible to make Akechi happy, because I don't think I have yet found a way.  
> The title is...hard to explain and...it really has no relevance and I'm sorry.

_**From:** **face in need of** **shoot sh** **oot** _

_16:06: Today won't work out._

_16:06: The others can't make the time to head in._

_16:07: I can make it up with some coffee later, if you want._

 

It was one of those days where exactly everything just had to go wrong.

First, being surrounded by thirsty fangirls all day long, something that surely sounded desirable to many people, but personally, Goro couldn't _stand it_. They were all fake and only cared because they could call him _hot stuff_ or drop unconscious if he actually wasted his precious time, breath and mental energy on talking to them.

Second, the Phantom Thief meeting being called off, which meant that he didn't even get to see Sakamoto's stupid ass get whooped in Mementos, or the admittedly rare but very fulfilling sad, frustrated looks on Okumura's face. Goro couldn't _wait_ for the moment she'd find out that it was actually him who'd killed her father, but at the same time, there was a voice of reason inside him, whenever he was so far away from the Metaverse and his powers, that kept trying to tell him something about regret, about wanting to undo all of that and deal with Shido in other ways.

God, how Goro _hated_ those bastards for confusing his feelings.

And then there was third, that leader-asshole Kurusu treating him like a goddamn baby, pretending he was an _oh-so-nice_ dude by offering coffee while he was most likely laughing his preposterous ass off with that idiot Sakamoto staring at him in the ridiculous lovey-dovey way he always did.

The thought alone made Goro mad enough to cling onto his suitcase almost a little too tightly when he headed for the diner, relatively ready to blow off some steam by wasting time and blocking the seat consuming nothing but a single cup of black coffee over the course of at least three hours, fully aware that no one would even think about throwing _him_ out of the place.

But the day wouldn't be bad enough if it stopped with him getting disappointed thrice, oh no. To his utter dismay, he seemed to have chosen a fairly bad time of the day, for the place was _loaded_. At least, so he tried to convince himself, it was mostly grown-ups, which meant less screaming squeaky fangirls, but that didn't change anything about the fact that there wasn't a single empty booth left for him to enjoy his peace in.

“I wonder who invited all these _pigs_ to the party,” he mumbled, eying all of the annoying happy faces around himself, people chatting with their best friends, significant others or siblings – he couldn't care less, because he had none of those, and he couldn't imagine it being so great either, for the only relative and approximately _close_ person he had was Shido, and he was a huge chunk of wasted oxygen, so how good could a family possibly be?

“Well, this won't do.”

Sure, he had the choice of leaving, but nothing was worse than realizing that he, yet again, didn't fit somewhere and needed to find another place to be accepted in. Obviously enough, that had been his only reason to go to that shitty sideway-café Leblanc at first – a fact he'd never admit – and just after that had he realized that the coffee was good enough to go back on purpose – as much as he wished it weren't, for _oh God_ did he want to scratch the everloving life out of _Mr. Perfect_ attic-boy Kurusu's face whenever he had to watch him play casual in his ugly green apron. It was a _disgrace_ and if there weren't the promising future of placing a bullet between those ridiculously arrogant eyes one _very soon_ day, Goro would probably head over there and speak his mind right this instant.

“D-did I do anything wrong?” he faintly heard voice say and blinked twice to snap out of his trance. How annoying, a boy his age sounding like a little sheepish school girl, and what was he even talking about?

Goro took a long moment to realize that he'd been staring at the guy, and another long moment to realize that he was wearing Shujin-clothes. How great were the chances of him being affiliated with Kurusu, and how big was the possibility of him being just another unwanted fanboy that Goro would _never_ understand. How could someone possibly care for a mediocre guy with a criminal record and absolutely no admirable achievements in his life? People's minds were truly beyond him – maybe, he found himself thinking, that was why he enjoyed twisting them so much until they entirely freaked out.

“What makes you think that?” he eventually asked in return, caring too little to ask before he sat down right across the shy boy, already annoyed by him in more ways than one – but anything was better than standing in the middle of a diner as if he'd been ditched by a date, or simply didn't have anyone who cared enough to meet up with him.

“N-nothing. You've been staring at me is all…”

Well, he most likely had, lost in his _I hate attic-trash_ thoughts yet again, and because he was mad enough to keep up a facade, he decided that blurting his first thought out couldn't possibly do much harm anyway.

“Right, of course. You wouldn't happen to know someone of the name Akira Kurusu, by chance?”

His perfect, innocent smile was up; he knew, he'd seen it on TV, magazines and his own foodblog countless times, and judging from how the other guy's face eased up a bit, it seemed to do its wonders like it always did. Maybe being a pretty boy did have his upsides, although most of the times, it was honestly tiring how that was everything people seemed to care about in him.

“What? I mean, y-yeah, I do. He's in the same class as me, how did you…oh. I'm wearing my uniform, r-right. So, what about him?”

Good question, actually. What about Akira Kurusu, other than the fact that Goro was counting the face until he could put an end to him, or that at the same time, he craved for the times he could just look at this deadpanning face and dwell in the fact that no matter how different they were, how they should hate and repel each other, there was something – something that years and years ago, he might have been able to call genuine, mutual interest or even _friendship_. As thing were now, though, the name alone made Goro mad enough to almost snap, and he had to keep his hands flat on his suitcase in order not to clench his fingers to angry fists.

“Nothing, really,” he finally answered, ordering a Frui-Tea when the waitress came over, ignoring her slightly shocked _oh my God it's Goro Akechi_ expression vehemently.

“He seems to be unexpectedly popular in school, despite his criminal record and all the other rumors you hear about him. I can't help but wonder why.”

He tried his best to sound casual, uninterested maybe, although it was very hard to hide how it made him at least a bit mad.

“Yes, he is, although it's not much of a surprise, if you ask me. He's willing to help anyone who doesn't even ask, always has a solution to difficult tasks-”

 _Oh no, not another Kurusu-fanboy, just how much worse can this day_ get-

“Not to sound ridiculous, but he's the first and only friend I had who cared enough to call me by my given name.”

Goro had to press his lips to a thin slit in order not to spill how much that one sentence alone ticked him off, mainly because it aggravated him how true it was for himself, too. It shouldn't be a deal to him – most people saying his name were interviewers, news reports or colleagues he didn't want to have the first thing to do with, and yet, he couldn't help but sympathize with someone being low-key mad about always being called by their family name, simply because he _understood_.

Still, if that was enough of a reason for this guy to admire Kurusu, then Goro had bad news for him.

“That's the reason he's your friend? Low standards, perhaps?”

It sounded just a tad more passive-aggressive than he'd intended, but he couldn't possibly have any less cares today.

“Th-that's not all, of course! He's a good friend to me either way. W-well…most of the time, I guess.”

 _Now_ they were getting to the interesting parts. If there was a single thing Goro hated more than Kurusu, it was Kurusu-fanboys – with Sakamoto absolutely taking the cake and its icing all at once, for he was not only obliviously moronic, but even more ridiculously longing to bend over and get his wimpy ass both wrecked and powdered all day long.

Oh, how Goro _despised_ him and his reckless, dimwitted attitude, foolishly stupid ideas or the fact that no matter how often he decided to take a blow for his patchwork-boyfriend, he _still_ hadn't even managed to finally get himself killed before the monster cat could heal him. In short, Ryuji Sakamoto was officially too dumb to die, and that fact alone was tiring enough for a whole week. The last thing Goro could possibly want in his life was another crazy idiotic fanboy, and for some reason, the idea of bribery, of _corruption_ crossed his mind. If anyone deserved to be admired, to be _desired_ , it was him – he'd worked so hard, all his life, and he had a right to ask something back for that at this point, didn't he? It was just _natural_.

“You don't sound convinced of your own words at all. Don't worry, though, I suppose I entirely understand what you mean by that, uhm…I don't think you introduced yourself, yet.”

And needless to say, Goro was poised enough to know that _he_ didn't need to do the same – everyone who'd ever seen a functioning TV in this area knew him, it was simply a fact, whoever didn't couldn't be normal.

“O-oh, right. I'm Mishima. Yuuki Mishima.”

_Yuuki._

Weirdly enough, it was a name Goro felt quite comfortable thinking, maybe even saying – a lot better than Mishima, at least.

“I see. Well, Yuuki, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions. Nothing more than simple routine, don't worry. I suppose Niijima-san is right when she says I'm a workaholic, after all.”

He smiled innocently, and it wasn't much longer until he'd managed to initiate a casual conversation, throwing in a few suggestive question seemingly at random, although of course in reality, there was a scheme to it. He was a professional, after all.

Eventually, though, it didn't need half a genius to understand that whatever relationship Yuuki had with Kurusu, he _definitely_ knew about him being a Phantom Thief. Goro couldn't help but smile a little at that thought. This would be perfect blackmailing material, he figured, and if it was really true that Kurusu apparently cared so much for his friends, it'd be very useful as well.

Hours later – with Goro sticking true to his principle of _one single drink_ – they left the diner in some sort of wordless agreement, and when he was about to drop the bomb about his earlier realization, Yuuki actually cut him off by leaning in a bit closer and mumbling:

“I know you're one of them, too.”

_What the hell?_

None of Goro's words could have possibly given away any personal relationship that he had with Kurusu or the other Phantom Thieves. Each and any of his questions had been casual enough to count as a detective's interest at best, so what was it that had given him away?

“I beg your pardon?”

At least he was trained enough not to pull a face, not to lose his cool, stutter, sweat or turn either red or pale. His expression was curious if anything, although he had to admit that the urge to pull Yuuki around the next corner and make sure he decided to stay quiet had Goro grab his suitcase tightly again.

“You're not half as secretive as you think, you know? And I've seen you around Kurusu-kun at least twice or so, which is just another indicator. Don't worry, though, my lips are sealed.”

_Worry?_

Was it the presumption of him being worried that made him mad, or the fact that some random _shy_ guy from a diner had the audacity of calling _him_ , Japan's youngest detective, out for not being careful and low-key enough? Both were definitely fairly high-up, most likely on par with the wide, seemingly innocent smile on Yuuki's face. Suddenly, Goro wanted to punch him, maybe even more than he wanted to punch Kurusu, and he was already reaching out slightly when-

“I know what it's like not to be good enough ever, you know?”

Yes, he knew. He knew oh-so-well what it was like to fight for attention and always turn out being a zero after all. What it was like to want but _one_ good thing in his life and not even getting that. He'd seen people leave, he'd seen how fickle and restless and disappointing they all were, and in the midst of that, in a shitty cheap diner in the middle of Shibuya's way too busy central street, there was this random kid who apparently understood him better than anyone else had ever even bothered to pretend they did.

Something in his mind snapped. Maybe it was because he'd already been found out, or because the day had been to bad for him to care anymore, but for whatever reason, he dropped his suitcase, without a single care about breaking what was inside it, grabbed Yuuki by the collar and pulled him close enough that that he could feel his warm, hasty breath.

_Nervous, huh? How innocent._

In no universe he could imagine himself in would Goro ever be a good guy, and he couldn't help the sly grin creeping up on his lips, his mind wandering off to how he could turn poor little Kurusu-fanboy Yuuki into a sweet, wonderful traitor by just bribing him long enough. With his potential knowledge, he would make for a great accomplice, the most ideal slave, a perfect-

“I'm aware you're plotting something.”

_So deliciously perceptive._

“But I suppose I'm done playing backup all the time.”

_So wonderfully willing._

“I've always wanted to have a reason to be, you know?”

And maybe one day, sometime in the future, Goro would admit that what he felt, what he _saw_ in Yuuki was something other than just potential, something more than a person he could use to finally put an end to his arch enemy, something more vital than another way of fueling his own desire for revenge.

Feeling his own mind ease at the sight of lips innocently curling up into a gentle, supportive smile, hands wrapping around his own on Yuuki's collar, silently pleading him to let go; maybe of the fabric, maybe of his own self-loathe, Goro decided.

Perhaps that seemingly faraway day could be right here, right now.


End file.
